


Seeing Red

by afteriwake



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Happy Ending, Jealous Sherlock, One-Sided Sherlock Holmes/Molly Hooper, POV Sherlock Holmes, Pining Sherlock, Scheming Mary, Sherlock Holmes and Feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:10:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/pseuds/afteriwake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Mary lets slip that Molly could possibly be serious about her latest suitor, and goes on and on about his fine qualities, Sherlock admittedly sees a bit of red. He wants to see for himself just what makes this particular male such a fine specimen of the species. He just hadn’t planned on getting caught doing so.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seeing Red

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MaybeItsJustMyType](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaybeItsJustMyType/gifts).



> So earlier this month, **MaybeItsJustMyType** left me a ton of prompts for short fics but a few of them called to me to be longer fics and this fic was inspired by one that stated " _Molly catches Sherlock spying on her on a date_." I had a lot of fun writing this, I swear. It was an absolute blast, and I hope you all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Sherlock was quite tired of Warren Dreher. He was tired of hearing Molly and Mary talk about the man in hushed whispers. He was quite tired of hearing Mycroft drop hints that, perhaps, Mr. Dreher should be looked into a bit more thoroughly. He was tired of John saying he was a pretty decent chap, all things considered. He was tired of seeing his name under photographs in the society pages…with Molly next to him, looking happy.

He wasn’t tired of the fact Molly was happy with her new beau, not exactly. He wanted Molly to be happy because he liked Molly. He’d give anything to make her happy because honestly, she deserved it.

He just hated the very damn sight of Warren Dreher and rather hoped the man would just go away. Far away. Like, to Mars. And stay there. Forever.

Far away from Molly.

Yes, he’d admit it. He was jealous. He had finally figured out that his feelings towards Molly were more than friendly, and by the time he’d figured it out she’d started to date Dreher and the more time that she spent with him the more irritated he became with their relationship and the angrier he became with himself for taking so long to come to his own realization. She was a good woman, the kind of woman any man would be lucky enough to have acknowledge their existence in a romantic sense, and it was his own damn fault for having her no longer look at him the way she now looked at Dreher.

And right now he was listening to Mary go on and on about how perfect he was. How charming he was. How well-spoken he was. How nice his smile and kind his eyes were. How intelligent he was.

It was grating on his very last bloody nerve.

“He’ll take good care of her, considering how serious they’re getting,” she said, and his head jerked up at that.

“What?” he asked, turning to look at her.

She took a spoonful of baby cereal out of the bowl for Alisa. “Well, they’ve gone out on quite a few dates in the last four month. I’d say it’s getting serious. And Molly seems happy enough. I mean, eventually it could be _serious_.” She fed the cereal to Alisa. “He could definitely take care of her though. I mean, he’s got the money to spare. She wouldn’t have to work. She could live a life of leisure, if she wanted to.”

Sherlock looked down at his hands. He didn’t want to think about Molly not being at Barts, not helping with his cases. He didn’t want to think about her not being around. Living a life of leisure meant she could travel. She could leave London, live anywhere in the world. He just didn’t want to imagine a world where Molly wasn’t a part of his life. “I see,” he said quietly.

She got some more cereal for Alisa. “She’s looking forward to the gala tonight. Some big fundraiser for Barts. Her dress is gorgeous. It’s couture. She even got John and I an invite, but I don’t think we’ll be able to make it.”

“Hmm,” Sherlock said.

Mary studied him for a long moment, and then seemed to settle on something. “You know,” she said, conversationally. “It would be a shame for the tickets to go to waste. You should go. I know it’s not your thing, but _someone_ should use them, and I know you have a tuxedo. And besides, it might be worth it for you to see Molly all gussied up.”

“Perhaps,” he said thoughtfully.

“You know, Sherlock, if you sit on your arse and sulk about this and you don’t _tell_ her you fancy her, it’ll be your fault if she’s miserable if she and Warren _do_ get serious because you didn't tell her how you really felt and she found out later,” Mary said. “So go tonight, have a few chutes of champagne and find a moment. Just…don’t make a scene, all right? Promise me that much.”

His mouth hitched up just slightly at the corner in a smile. “All right.”

When Mary was done feeding Alisa the two of them went to go pick John up for lunch, and John said it was fine if Sherlock took the tickets. He killed time until it was time to get ready, and then he got his tuxedo on and made his way to The Savoy for the gala. Molly wasn’t there yet so he decided to get the lay of the land. He could easily have pretended to be wait staff, but that hadn’t turned out well when he did that to tell John he had come back from the dead. There was no point in tempting fate again; he didn’t want there to be a scene. No, he’d simply try and blend into the background, stay in the crowd and observe her without being seen. When she arrived, he’d make sure he could see her but she never saw him.

It didn’t take long for her to arrive, walking in on Dreher’s arm. He walked in like he owned the place, except he didn’t seem cocky about it. He did seem kind to the people who spoke to him, happy to see them. And Molly…Molly looked absolutely ravishing , every inch like a regal queen. She wore a one shouldered white gown with gold embroidery on the shoulder and the bottom of the sleeve and all along the bottom hem, and held in at the waist with a gold belt. Her hair was curled and piled up on top of her head.

She looked as though she belonged on the arm of someone like Dreher, someone who could give her the world, and never someone like him.

He followed her around the floor, trying to be as discrete as possible, but after nearly an hour he saw her look up and their eyes met and he knew he was caught. She came over and he grabbed a flute of champagne, taking a sip. “Enjoying yourself?” she asked.

He nodded. “Are you?” he asked, feigning nonchalance.

“Not really,” he said. “I’m bored out of my mind.”

He lowered the champagne glass and looked at him. “You don’t _seem_ bored.”

She gave him a smirk. “I’m a very good actress. I managed to convince the world you were dead for two years, after all.”

He gave her an approving look. “That is true.”

“I mean, I enjoy these things from time to time. It’s nice to dress up and all, and the dress is lovely, but it’s been a long day today and I’d much rather be at home, curled up in front of the telly.”

“How many autopsies?” he asked.

“Five,” she said. “But one of them had liquefied internal organs.”

Sherlock perked up at that. “I’m surprised I wasn’t called in on that case.”

She chuckled. “Well, it wasn’t murder. But I could tell you about it.”

He looked around. “Would you like to go back to your flat and change into your pyjamas and relax as you tell me this story?”

She gave him a grateful look. “Oh, that would be absolutely lovely. And any chance we could get Chinese? I’ve avoided all the food here. None of it looks all that filling.”

“Orange chicken and fried rice with egg rolls, correct?” he asked, and she nodded. He offered her his arm. “It will be my treat.” She gave him a wide smile and took his arm, and as they left the gala together Sherlock felt that maybe he hadn’t lost his chance after all.


End file.
